Reaper

by Lena North

  I fell asleep with a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest and woke up with a dull headache. The face I surveyed in the mirror was pale and the bump over my brow had somehow moved down and settled as a purple shadow just below my eye. It wasn’t swollen anymore, though, so I could put my contacts in without problems. I'd never used much makeup and hadn't brought any at all to Double H so I brushed my thick hair and arranged the brown fall into something I thought could pass as a hairstyle, of sorts, hiding part of my face. The cut on my lip was mostly an almost black line and it was swollen but much less than I had expected.

  “Nobody will notice,” I assured myself.

  Laughter suddenly echoed in my head and I turned around to find a whole swarm of dragonflies swirling through the room.

  “You can’t be here,” I whispered. “I told you. You have to stay away.”

  “Fistfight,” one of them said and the others giggled. “Shi, shi, shi, SHINER!” another called out and loud laughter echoed again.

  I marched over to the window and tried my best to look stern when I ordered, “Go.”

  They saw right through my fake anger and swirled around my head, giggling and throwing out alternatives to the word shiner as if they were a flying thesaurus. I had to laugh with them after a while, and they left when I did. As I leaned forward to close the window, I whispered a quiet, “Thanks,” and one of them turned back to rest on the sill.

  “Wormgrass,” it whispered, and added, “Goody.”

  “I’ll find some,” I promised.

  Wormgrass were herbs we used on minor injuries at my grandfather's place in the mountains, on the animals mostly but also on ourselves. It had a scientific name, but we still used the old one and my brothers seemed to have been covered in it as we grew up.

  Olly was waiting downstairs, and I could see how he struggled to hold back laughter when he caught sight of my face. So much for looking normal, I thought.

  “Not a word,” I said and pointed at him.

  “Haven’t said anything.”

  “You were going to.”

  “Nope.”

  “You were thinking about it,” I snapped.

  “Well, yeah,” he said and a small grin spread on his face. “Wasn’t going to say anything, though.”

  He put a hand on my cheek to tilt my face toward the light from the windows. He poked and prodded at the eye, and then his brows went up.

  “You have contacts?” he asked.

  I tried to nod but he still held his hand on my cheek.

  “Colored contacts?” he added.

  Well, crap. The site I bought them from had stated clearly that no one would notice. I nodded again and took a step toward the door.

  “Why?”

  “I thought it would look better with my brown hair,” I said casually, and it wasn’t a total lie.

  “What’s your real color?”

  “Mostly blue,” I said, and that wasn’t a total lie either.

  “Okay,” he muttered and pushed the door open. “Weird,” he added as he stepped outside.

  I didn't say a word and hoped he'd let it go as something a silly and vain girl would do, which wasn't so very far from the truth.

  “Hey,” Wilder called out and jogged toward us. “What are you working on to –”

  She stopped and stared. Then she leaned forward and inspected my face.

  “What the hell?” she muttered.

  “Yeah, that was me,” Olly grunted.

  I stifled my laughter and was about to explain, but I was too slow.

  “You hit her?” Wilder barked angrily. “Olly, what the hell?”

  “What?” Olly said.

  His voice was suddenly way too calm and a little hoarse.

  “Are you completely out of your mind?” Wilder shouted and took a step toward him.

  I took hold of her arm to stop her. Olly didn’t move and a small muscle worked in his jaw. Slowly his whole face closed down and became a sad, angry mask. He turned abruptly and walked away without a word.

  “What is wrong with you?” I hissed, and it was slightly garbled because my lip was still swollen enough to hamper my speech, but Wilder understood.

  “He didn’t hit you?” she whispered.

  “I know you’re my boss but right now I really want to slap you!” I yelled.

  “What?”

  I ignored her completely and walked away too, heading for the barn where they kept their horses. I'd thought Wilder was cool and funny, but right then I didn't like her at all. How could she think Olly would hit me?

  When I got into the barn, I hissed out a few curses and kicked the wall. Olly had been happy, or at least less sad, for a while, and she had ruined the small progress I'd made.

  “Annie,” he said quietly and I jumped.

  “Why are you sneaking around like that?” I snapped.

  “Wasn’t.”

  “Wasn’t what?”

  “Sneaking.”

  I opened my mouth but had no clue what to say so I closed it again with a snap.

  “Thanks,” he said and helped me pull out the water hose.

  “How could she even think that?” I asked but didn’t wait for him to reply. “I’m so angry I could…” I made a pause as I struggled with the tap, and he cut in.

  “Slap her?”

  I froze and glanced up at him.

  “You heard that?”

  “Babe. The whole ranch heard that.”

  Oh.

  “So, thanks.”

  “You’re totally welcome,” I said primly and exhaled when I heard his low chuckle.

  Wilder hadn't ruined anything, it seemed. There might not be a need to slap her after all, and she'd probably kill me if I did anyway, I thought with a smile.

  We worked together in silence, and since Olly wouldn't let me do any of the heavy work, I thought it was a fantastic morning. I'd certainly spent enough time in my grandfather's stables to know how to take care of the few horses they had at Double H, but it wasn't my favorite kind of work and in recent years I'd spent time in his office instead, or by my computer.

  “I'll head up the mountain to check some fences,” Olly said when all the chores were done.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll –”

  “I’m an idiot,” Wilder said from the door.

  Mac was behind her and he nudged her forward into the barn.

  I didn’t reply and moved a bucket from one side of the aisle to the other with no other purpose than showing her that she was interrupting.

  “Olly, I’m sorry,” she said. “But you said you’d done it.”

  Olly moved the bucket back to its original place, probably for the same reason I’d moved it in the first place.

  “Can either of you talk to me please?” she sighed.

  I stretched my hand out but she took a few quick steps forward, snatched the bucket from under my hand and threw it out through the door, missing Mac’s head with a few inches. He winced but didn’t move and remained silent.

  “Thought we were friends,” Olly muttered after a while.

  “I’m –”

  “How the hell could you think I’d hit her in the face?” he barked.

  “I didn’t think.”

  “Damned right you didn’t.”

  They glared at each other for a long time without saying a word and finally, Mac stepped in.

  “Right. Wilder, you jumped to conclusions which were ridiculous and acted like a massive dumbass, but Olly, she apologized and you are the one being stupid right now.”

  They both turned to glare at him.

  “Are we having lunch, or what?” Mac said calmly, not intimidated in the least by the angry warriors in front of him.

  Olly’s shoulder sank a little and he sighed.

  “Apology accepted, Wilder. I’m checking fences though, so no lunch for me.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “I’ll pack up a few sandwiches for you
.”

  “Uh, babe,” Mac butted in. “He just accepted your apology. No need to try to kill him.”

  Olly’s eyes crinkled a little at the corners, which I guessed it meant Wilder wasn’t a very good cook, and that the fight was over. I wasn’t one to hold a grudge, but that was quick, even for me.

  “Do you want lunch, Annie?” Wilder asked. “I didn’t cook.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll just go and…”

  I waved my hand vaguely, indicating some unspecified task.

  “I really am sorry,” she murmured.

  “No need to apologize to me,” I said calmly, and murmured a quiet, “See you guys later.”

  On the way back to my loft I met Andy and he immediately ordered me to take the rest of the day off. My headache had faded away, but I accepted his order with a smile because I really needed some time alone, to think about what had happened. I'd started to believe I could trust Wilder, but I wasn't so sure anymore. If she jumped to conclusions like she'd just done then I’d have to gag her to get her to listen to everything I had to say. Maybe I should approach her father instead. No, I decided, I would wait a day or two and if I still weren't sure, I’d find a way to talk to Jinx Sweetwater. I’d have to lay everything out but she was a genius so she might be the best one to talk to after all.

  That afternoon I found three different leads to where Cameron Strachlan might hide, and sent the information off via several servers abroad, covering my trails in a way I knew very few would be able to unscramble.

  I smiled when the soft ping from Olly’s computer on the other side of the barn announced its arrival in his inbox.

  Chapter Three

  Sweaty

  I thought Olly would leave again but he didn't. Instead, he stayed in the other loft studio, worked on the ranch, and brooded. Wilder tried to get him to fight with her in the ring downstairs but he refused. Mac tried to get him to fight with Wilder and even offered to get beaten up himself but Olly just walked away. Hawker Johns came, but Olly calmly told him to, “stay the hell away or I'll fucking kill you,” so he left in a huff. Then Snow called and I heard Olly tell his cousin he’d rather she stayed away too. I was standing next to him and felt my eyes widen as he spoke.

  “No, honey, I’m doing fine.”

  Pause.

  “No.”

  Pause.

  “No.”

  Pause.

  “No.”

  Pause.

  “No.”

  What the hell was she saying that had him protesting so many times? He started to look like he wanted to drop the f-bomb also on her and a small giggle escaped in spite of my efforts to curb it. I immediately slapped a hand over my mouth.

  “No,” he repeated into the phone but the way his eyes narrowed made me think he didn’t like my sudden burst of humor, so I tried to walk away.

  He took hold of my arm and told his cousin to shut up.

  “What?” he said.

  It took a while before I understood he was talking to me, and I just shook my head a little, afraid that opening my mouth would make highly inappropriate laughter destroy the rest of the uncomfortable discussion he was having.

  “Snow?” he said into the phone. “Gotta go, talk to you –” There was a long pause and then he growled, “What part do you not get? Is it the n or the o?” He raised his eyes to the sky and sighed. “Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

  When he pushed the phone into his pocket, I started giggling.

  “What?” he repeated.

  “I think your cousin needs to clean out her ears,” I said. “What did she say that –”

  “My ma died a few months ago,” he blurted out.

  I closed my mouth and swallowed.

  “Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  The look on his face told me clearly that he regretted his words.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  “No.”

  “Is this the same conversation you had with your cousin?”

  “N –” he stopped and glanced at me under his brow, and slowly a small grin started in his eyes. “Cute,” he muttered.

  I scrunched up my nose and made a small face to cover up the warm feeling of happiness spreading inside me. Through the afternoon I sensed Olly's gaze on me as we worked but he didn't say anything and took off on his bike so I spent the evening trying not to feel lonely.

  Low rhythmic grunts woke me up in the middle of the night. Olly had been away the whole evening and I lay there, listening to the sounds, guessing he'd brought some girl home with him. I did not like the thought of that and did absolutely not want to hear them, so I got out of bed to get my headset. Some heavy metal on the highest volume my phone could produce would likely drown out their activities. There was a weird clinking sound suddenly, and I peeked around the wall because seriously? If they were doing anything kinky downstairs, I’d start screaming.

  He was alone, only a small lamp was lit and he was working out.

  I walked down the steps quietly, wondering why he was lifting weights in the middle of the night. Then I saw his face.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  He lowered the weights slowly and turned to me.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “I thought you were having sex,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I know, stupid, but there it is. Guess I’m not so very clever,” I said.

  “You thought I was –” He cut himself off and shook his head, and murmured, “Annie…”

  He didn’t look sad anymore, and when I just stared at his beautiful brown eyes, he smiled at me.

  “Do you want a beer?” I blurted out.

  “Beer?”

  “No?”

  “But –”

  “I can make tea,” I informed him.

  “I’m sure you can, babe, but I hate it.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, feeling stupid suddenly.

  Why hadn’t I just left him alone with his thoughts?

  “Beer is fine,” he murmured. “I’ll get a bag of chips.”

  I’d felt homesick when I was in the store earlier so I’d picked up a case, thinking I’d be nice to have one while I called my family. They had all been out, though, and I hadn’t felt like drinking alone. Sipping on one in a mostly dark room with Olly, talking quietly and relaxing together… That worked for me.

  After that evening we spent more time together, partly since we worked together although mostly because we shared a house. Sort of. There was a TV downstairs and we sometimes watched a movie together, or else we played cards and talked. He seemed to want to stay clear of anything personal, and since I did too, we discussed everything except ourselves. I pushed back all thoughts about why I actually was at Double H, like I had for weeks, knowing that I shouldn’t let everything slide like I did, but I felt safe and told myself a few more days wouldn’t matter. I’d always been good at compartmentalizing, and the fact that I was in a way deceiving Olly and the others was something I ignored completely.

  My duties were mostly in the stables so when Andy sent us to one of the meadows in the lower parts of the mountains, I was happy to go.

  “What are you thinking about?” Olly asked as we were walking away from the bikes, jolting me out my thoughts.

  “Working out,” I said, and immediately bit my lower lip.

  Each time I’d passed him while he was lifting weights, he grinned at me and I knew he remembered what I’d blurted out, even though we hadn’t talked about it.

  “Don’t bite your lip, you know how sharp your teeth are,” he joked. “What about working out?”

  “Can you teach me how to fight for real?” I asked, to stop him from bringing up my stupid assumptions.

  “Fight?”r />
  “Yeah. Like boxing, or… yeah.”

  I was far from stupid but I didn’t exactly sound intelligent enough to open a jar of pickles, and I closed my eyes briefly as I tried to come up with something less moronic to say.

  “Babe,” he snorted, and moved some branches so I wouldn’t walk straight into them.

  “I know how to fight, or at least, a little. But you have that boxing thing downstairs and you’re huge so…”

  “You don’t know how to fight,” he stated with great, and slightly insulting, certainty.

  “I totally do,” I protested.

  He made a sound and I frowned.

  “I grew up with brothers. Three older brothers, Olly. I know how to fight.”

  “Hit me,” he said calmly.

  “What?”

  “You know how to fight? So, hit me.”

  “Where?” I asked, wondering how a casual comment had brought us to this point.

  “Wherever.”

  I stared at him, and then I hit him as hard as I could in the stomach.

  “Ouch,” I yelled. “Goddamn it, what are you wearing, Olly? A bulletproof vest?”

  He started laughing loudly and he was so full of joy I just stared at him. I’d never seen him laugh that way before and something softened inside my chest.

  “You don't know how to fight,” he concluded. “And a bulletproof vest is kinda soft.”

  “But –”

  “Just a tee and my jacket,” he added and raised them to show me his belly.

  Oh. Oh, wow. He was showing off a lot of muscles and I made a small hoarse sound.

  “But yeah,” he grinned. “I can teach you if you want.”

  “Humph,” I said and pretended to be angry, which failed miserably.

  The rest of the afternoon, I thought about working out, with him, and how he sometimes took off his tee and trained bare-chested.

  Snow was waiting on the front porch of the main house when we got back, together with Wilder and a curvy brunette I would have recognized anywhere. Jinx Sweetwater.

  Well, crap.

  “Come, meet my cousin,” Olly said.